Chasing Ellesse
 

Words & Photos: John and Jenny Mote

Prologue

Over the years we have been fortunate to watch our mokopuna Ellesse Andrews compete at a number of World, Commonwealth and Olympic track cycling races, with wonderful cycle touring trips integrated into the itinerary.

Our first was the 2017 Junior Track Cycling World Championships in Monticiari and then the World Championships in Berlin 2020 - escaping for home the day before covid lockdown.

We also had tickets to the 2020 Tokyo Olympics (actually held in 2021) but covid and a closed Japan border put paid to that. Business contacts in Tokyo, Taro Suzuki and Kyoko Chiba used these. Resplendent in specially printed Ellesse t-shirts and with NZ flags handed out to fellow Japanese spectators at the Izu Velodrome, they became Ellesse's cheer squad. Her silver medal in the Keirin rewarded her locally sourced tifosi.

We did make it to the Birmingham Commonwealth Games the following year - ironically held in London at the Lee Valley VeloPark. Brompton folding bikes were hired as transport for our three week stay. Being able to take them on the tube opened the entire city for quick and easy exploration. An added benefit was the option to transfer the hire fee as a credit on any future purchase of one of these cute, quirky and highly functional bikes.

For the 2023 World Champs in Glasgow we hired hybrid bikes for an 800 mile tour taking in Arran, Islay, Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park to Oban before catching the train back to Glasgow. Amazing scenery, friendly folk, crap weather with heinous midges forcing a retreat into hotel accommodation on a couple of occasions.

On the way home we stopped off in New York with friends Roger Robinson and Kathrine Switzer at their New Platz summer residence, borrowed their 1990’s mountain bikes and rode sections of the Empire State Trail between New York City and Albany.

London to Paris 2024

We opted for our own bikes to ride from the UK to Paris for the 2024 Olympics. Our planned route took us through Somerset, Devon, Bretagne and Normandy visiting friends along the way.

Back in 2008 we had assembled our bikes at Heathrow and rode across London to catch the European Bike Express (Bus) to Provence. This time we took the more sensible option of a Black Cab to our Airbnb in Rickmansworth. Bikes and baggage sorted, we commenced our ride with a short slosh to Slough along a very muddy Grand Union Canal tow path. From there the Elizabeth Line train dropped us in Reading, linking to a GWR service to Taunton.

Somerset

We endured a chilly first night in the tent at Tanpits Cider Farm Camping after our Somerset friends advised they had tested positive for covid. The first job on day 5 was to buy additional warm clothing before attacking the Quantock Hills to Minehead, where we had arranged to stay with Warm Shower hosts.

It did not take us long to realise our usual optimism at the beginning of these trips was again misplaced - overestimating fitness, underestimating the load and forgetting that we are getting on a bit. The Quantocks' narrow and at times unsealed roads were a challenge. But we adjusted our pace, walking up the 8% plus pinches and eventually, 53 kms and 962 metres of climbing later arrived wet and cold at the Witherspoon’s Pub in Minehead. Our hosts weren’t returning home until 8pm so we had time to kill but the wait was worth it as we were welcomed into a large 19^th Century Cottage and shown a warm comfy bed with adjacent ensuite. Mary and Paul were great hosts, avid track cycling fans who had done lots of cycle touring in both the UK and Europe. We talked long into the night. They also knew of Ellesse as a friend’s daughter, Sophie Capewell was in the GB track team.

Devon

Lynmouth, site of a disastrous flash flood in 1952 that cost 34 lives was our next destination. Route choice gave the option of a short sharp 1:4 climb up Porlock Hill onto the downs or a gentler private toll road for a pound! It did not take us long to decide but unfortunately the ride down into Lynmouth failed to offer a similar choice. At the 25% warning sign we alighted and gingerly walked loaded bikes down the hill. Our campsite was up the other side of an equally step valley wall so after a another very short discussion we headed for a Bed and Breakfast run by Clifford, an archetypal English publican, and his Indonesian wife.

We spent another day exploring the area and riding the Lynmouth Cliff Railway (gradient 1:1.75), which could have taken us and our bikes up for £12.50 each. Apart from the price it only got us halfway to the ridge with the balance still having gradients above 20%. The final solution was provided by the local taxi company… “oh we take lots of cyclists up to the top”. Early the next morning for the best 10 quid ever spent we were away heading for Barnstaple and the Sustrans Cross Devon Cycle track. Our planned destination had been Ilfracombe, but we had now learnt about these coastal roads, with their succession of climbs and descents, so decided to reclassify the UK section of our trip as a gentle training reintroduction to the pleasures of long-distance cycle travel, meaning a short cut to Barnstaple.

After a pleasant (and warm) night at Whitemoor Farm Camp we headed for the rail trail following the River Taw to the sea, then up the right bank of the Torridge to Bideford towards Torrington, a beautiful scenic ride on a well-maintained path. After an easy 48 kms we rode off what was now the Tarka (The Otter) Trail along a narrow forest track and into a ‘Hi de Hi’ type Holiday Park, pitching our tent in the old Manor House walled garden.

On day 10 we continued direction Plymouth and as usual had no plan for where we would stop for the night. We don’t mind free camping and try not to pressure ourselves with a fixed itinerary, with our next major waypoint being the Roscoff Ferry. But even for this section we didn’t have a booking, so no time pressure apart from getting to Vaires-sur-Marne on 2^nd July to watch Luka Jones in the Olympic kayak slalom.

Heading towards Oakhampton we met up with a gentle and slightly eccentric bloke on an old steel framed Raleigh. We later discovered he rode around NZ on the same bike in 1981. Adam repaired harpsichords and made a range of wooden parts supplied to musicians throughout Europe. We followed him for a couple of hours into Oakhampton and his favourite bike/coffee shop where we continued to exchange stories. The ride from there into Plymouth was an easy 3 days following the western edge of Dartmoor National Park. In recent years the ratio of camping to hotel nights has steadily migrated in the more comfortable direction and for this section the split was two nights Bed and Breakfast to one camping.

Bretagne

We booked a cabin on the overnight ferry to Roscoff. Alighting early morning, we attached ourselves to a group of English cyclists and headed for petit déjeuner at a harbour side café. Many of this group were on ebikes and over the duration of our trip observed the split between acoustic and e-touring was about 50:50. I was especially envious of those with a trailer attached, remembering the 6,000+ kms we rode around France in 2004, me with a bob yak in tow. It is still in the garage so maybe next time?

Our first two nights in France were at an Airbnb in Santec, a small village 5 kms from Roscoff and we used this as a base for exploring westwards direction Plouescat. In Roscoff we spent a day wandering around the beautiful town, enjoying its ambience, while watching the tide ebb and flow - the range around the Bretagne Coast is spectacular at up to 14 metres. The boat harbour emptied out leaving everything stranded on the sand. Old men walked around with nets looking for any crustacean or fish unlucky enough to be stranded in one of the many rock pools.

Our Airbnb hosts gave us a special treat on our second night, presenting a tray with two large steamed artichauts accompanied by a delicious mayonnaise. A quick google showed us how to best eat them and now we are hooked, already having some planted with more seeded in the glasshouse. On the following days, we rode through fields of this beautiful crop wondering why they are not grown more widely in NZ.

On day 17 we explored Morlaix, taking in the 19^th century stone viaduct still used by the TGV, ending up at Baie de Terenez Camping. It was now warm, the camp had a pool, bar and kitchen, not common in French campgrounds. In an adjacent tent we had the added pleasure of an English gentleman for company, now on an ebike extending his lifetime of cycling adventures well into his 80’s.

The stunning coastal scenery was a treat and getting fitter now meant we were enjoying pedalling over the headlands separating each bay. The municipal campground at St Emilyn was managed by a young woman who had spent two seasons working in Wanaka and Queenstown, one of the many French youngsters we met who had fond memories and a close bond with Aotearoa. We always travel flying a black silver fern flag – providing instant recognition and many opportunities for conversation, and sometimes literally opening doors for us. This happened the following day when consulting the map on an off-road trail we were asked if everything was ‘d’accord’. One thing led to another and that night we camped on Johanne’s lawn, enjoying a meal with him and his two young boys.

We had planned the next stop in Paimpol, staying with Gertrude the mother of Adele, one of our Sumner 'WWOOFers'. Located on the rugged northern Bretagne coast, Paimpol offered gorgeous vistas. We were well looked after, able to rest and catch up on washing and emails. With chores done, we explored the area with Gertrude, enjoying a scrumptious lunch at Bar à Huîtres Arin before visiting Abbaye de Beauport. Like all these ancient sites it is loaded with fascinating history, in this case dating back to the 13^th Century.

After wwoofing with us Adele had joined a shearing gang where she learned the craft, returning for another 4 seasons before settling with her partner and two children on a small dairy farm near Rostrenen, our next stop. Adele now runs her own shearing business while Joseph tends to their 65 cows. We learned how European Union subsidies, tax relief and hard work selling a range of other farm products made the operation viable. It is easy to see why European countries strive to keep people of the land and rural communities alive, but hard to reconcile such protection and underproduction when so many in the world are desperately short of food.

We left the farm after two nights via an ancient path that ran a few hundred metres down to the Brest Nantes Canal. After crossing the Ecluse du Cosquer (lock) gate 51 we joined Euro Velo 1 la Velodyssee and over the next 5 days rode 404 kms along tow paths through Rohan, Redon and Rennes to Saint Marlo. We had booked a hotel for two nights in the walled city - more recently famous in Anthony Doerr's novel 'All the Light We Cannot See'. Mostly destroyed in WWII, large sections were rebuilt with such skill it is difficult to tell old from new. Such a beautiful town to explore albeit having to share it with hordes of other visitors.

Normandy

Day 33 saw us starting to cross the Normandy Peninsula from Le Mont Saint Michel through to Isigny-sur-Mer and Grandcamp Maisy.

We had been downloading Sustrans and Euro Velo GPX tracks via iPhone onto the Wahoo cycle computer (easy once you learn how) with turn-by-turn instructions and detailed maps. To get a wider perspective of our location we used the 1:100,000 laminated IGN Tourisme Et Velo maps in France and 1:50,000 OS maps in the UK. We camped our way through this section with one memorable site in a local park next to the Saint Fromond town centre that was being set up for a Bastille Day party. There was already a French cycle touring family (dad Oliver had worked for several years on a Clearburn Dairy farm) in residence and after we set up our tent another cyclist joined our group for the night. A band entertained us for the evening as we joined villagers enjoying local beer, wine and BBQ food on this special night of dancing, fireworks and celebration.

Citizens of the Normandy Coast through to Honfluer had been remembering the 80^th anniversary of the Normandy Landings. In every town there were fresh WWII displays adding to the permanent museums, information boards, sculptures and many memorials. Our history lessons and other reading had not prepared us for the visceral feelings generated by the sights we observed - the sheer scale of the event, complexity of planning, the physical infrastructure built, some of which has a continued presence today and then the enormous loss of life and the sorrow inflicted for families across the world. We passed through Rouen a few days later where my great uncle, Robert Albert Crawford is buried in the Commonwealth War Cemetery and stopped to honour him. He died on 8^th October 1917, 20 years old.

At Arromanches we stayed in accommodation offered by French cinematographer Jacques Assuerus, now in his 80’s. That evening we sat in a restaurant eating moules marinières with a view of the extensive and stark remains of the Mulberry Harbour that had been towed over from England after the beach had been captured.

Further up the Coast at Quistreham we met Belgium friends Sig and Bram who were joining us for a few days riding. They were young kids when they stayed with us in Sumner, Christmas 1998 and since then we have used their home in Saint Joris Weert as a base for some of our European adventures. In 2010 we took a 10-year-old Ellesse with us on a European holiday. Along with Sig and Bram's 3 children we watched a day of Le Tour before heading off to the Moselle Valley for a combined train and bike tour adventure.

On day 37 at the Ferry Port of Quistreham we witnessed the challenges undocumented refugees face as they wait for any opportunity continue their journey and find a haven… anywhere. Their makeshift camp was adjacent to the camping ground, separated by a security fence, stream and trees. While we had a pool, restaurant, warm showers and toilets they had PVC and iron shelters, porta loos, one cold water tap, and oil drums cut in half where they burned fuel to keep warm and cook food.

The ride through Honfluer to our next camp was lumpy. Deauville looked like a fun place to have a holiday with its attractive harbour, busy shops beautiful architecture and Honfluer was equally pretty. But we were heading for a rendezvous at Camping Les Bureres near Conteville, a small simple rural campsite with great hosts. We arrived just in time to order pizza and beer, then enjoying a relaxed night chatting with the owners and other guests.

Day 38 we made it to the Seine after some quite arduous biking and steep hills. This finished with an even steeper decent down to our first Bac crossing at Cale du bac de Quillebeuf sur Seine, disembarking on the right bank in the middle of an oil refinery responsible for 20% of France’s petrochemical production. These small ferries are free for vehicles to criss-cross the Seine, removing the need for bridges and allowing ocean shipping access upriver to Rouen.

The scenery contrast was stark, two hours riding in beautiful forest and fertile farmland on one side then an industrial nightmare on the other. France is doing a lot to reduce carbon emissions but knowing that the huge Port-Jérôme-Gravenchon Refinery is replicated many hundreds of times around the world provides a sobering reality of the challenge. And of course, our negative contribution is not insignificant, even minor roads in France are smooth bitumen - such a pleasure to ride on, and we had flown there from the other side of the planet to attend a sporting event attracting 11.2 million visitors.

Daily temperatures were now reaching mid 30’s and the ride to our camping spot at Jumieges was testing. Even the spectacular ruins of the monastery failed to lift our spirits dulled by 94kms of riding.

The next day we passed through Rouen, a gorgeous city settled in turn by Romans and Vikings, and a favourite court of William the Conqueror with reminders of this long history found throughout the old city. We had visited here before but needing to get Sig and Bram back to their car in Mantes-la-Jolie we hurried on to a campsite in Pont-de-L’Arche.

Jenny and I were tiring, keeping up with our much younger companions, so we treated ourselves to a Camping Pod (sleeping platform and blow-up mattress with electricity), skipping the usual regime of pitching the tent and inflating our Nemo mattresses. Riding into camp we spotted some locals swimming down the river so braved a dip in the Seine to get a feel for what Olympic triathletes were going to experience a week or so later. I made sure to keep my head above water - just like in a Rotorua hot pool - and later was quick to shower and scrub off the slight sheen on my skin. Not a good omen for triathletes. Trip Advisor gave well deserved reviews for a Moroccan restaurant 200 metres away.

To date we had only partly followed the official 510 km La Seine à Vélo route, short cutting some of the big meandering loops, but from now planned to stay on track. That included a visit to Monet’s Giverny Gardens, although our perspective was limited somewhat by having to stand on our bike seats while looking over the wall!

We reached Mantes-la-Jolie mid afternoon, said goodbye to our friends and retreated to a scruffy hotel for the next two nights. The town matched the hotel, which was disappointing. We were happy though to get our washing done, eat, sleep and catch up on admin tasks.

On day 43 we enjoyed an easy ride through Poissy and the outer suburbs of Paris, joining the road-race course at Pont de Bougival for the climb out of the Seine up to Versailles and close to the National Velodrome of Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines. We also passed Le Golf National and briefly toyed with the idea of free camping somewhere on the extensive grounds as it was late afternoon and there were no camping grounds within cycling range. We settled for a B&B Hotel which was reasonably priced and very comfortable, cooking our evening meal on the hotel terrace.

From Igny we planned to skirt south of Orly Airport but prior had our first mechanical of the trip, a broken chain. The links were twisted and although I had a couple of spare joiners the repair task looked a challenge, complicated by us being in the middle of a torrential downpour. We couldn’t believe our luck when Google showed us a bike shop, TCS Bike, in Massy less than 500 metres up the road. They had some nice bikes on display and a big workshop out the back. 15 minutes later we were off down the road with a new chain heading for the Maison le Dimna - a boulangerie pâtisserie artisanale spied around the next corner. We camped at Melun that night and again avoided the tent in favour of a Coco Suite, like our previous Pod but with kitchen facilities. Nice.

Day 45 to Grez-sur-Leong was a combination of river and canal paths, an easy 55 kms. Our friend Silvie had a house there and had recently purchased the adjoining early 19^th century cottage, knocked out some walls and refurbished. We enjoyed the comfort of our own space for the next 11 nights.

Olympic Gold

While at Silvie’s we caught the Transilien Line R line train into Paris. Designated carriages with bike hooks made it easy for us and our bikes. We had tickets for the Kayaking, Women’s 7’s, Hockey and Rowing and could bike to these venues from Gare de Lyon. Paris is superbly set up for cycling and all venues had special bike route signage for the Olympics with secure cycle parking close by.

From Silvie’s we moved to an Airbnb apartment shared with daughter Angela and Ellesse’s partner Josh, some 4 kms from the velodrome. We had finally arrived at Saint-Quentin-en -Yvelines after 1487 bike kilometres from London.

The following 7 days were magic. It was such a privilege to be there in person and be a conduit to friends and family watching the cycling back in NZ. As quoted by BBC commentators Simon Brotherton and Chris Boardman, we were all ‘sent stratospheric’ by our team.

An amazing silver for the women’s team sprint on day one for Rebecca Petch, Shaane Fulton, Ellesse and travelling reserve Olivia King was followed by Ellesse’s two individual golds, making her the first woman in Olympic history to achieve the sprint double. Ally Wollaston fought to the last lap of the last race on the velodrome for her bronze in the Omnium, while earlier in the competition she had teamed with Bryony Botha, Emily Shearman and Nicole Shields to win silver in the team pursuit. With two 4^th placings and a 5^th the men got so close, but like the whole team they made us all so proud. What a performance!

Post Euphoria and Post Paris

Day 64 started with two RER train trips transferring at La Defense, facilitating an escape to the western edge of Paris. We disembarked at Cergy le Haut connecting to the Avenue Verte, Paris to London bike route. Just over half the distance to Dieppe was on old rail corridors with the remainder quiet back roads and public pathways. The temperature hit 40ºC by mid afternoon and the few shops we passed looked as though they had been closed for years. Later we read the trip guide to discover a warning saying there were no services available on this 50 km stretch! 

We eventually found a working faucet in a country sports ground. Then joined some youths swimming in a local river to cool off before finding shade in a roadside park where we pitched our tent for what turned out to be the last time. No food outlets of any sort, so dinner was the last of our emergency rations - olives, snack biscuits and sardines with a Mars bar for dessert.

Early next morning we made it to Gisors and bought more food than we actually needed, eating our yogurt sitting on the footpath beside our bikes. This was day 65. booking.com had found us a lovely hotel in the spa town of Forges les Eaux and did an even better job for our final night in France. A hotel with a view of the Dieppe fishing harbour and adjacent to the beach, although the steep shingle foreshore and carnival rides didn’t tempt us. Both hotels had secure cycle storage and facilities for charging ebikes.

The ferry from Dieppe landed us in Newhaven and a ride along the A36. This was a bad route choice as the road was narrow, had no shoulder, was potholed and very busy so our nerves were jangling by the time we completed the 7 km to the Southease Youth Hostel. Next morning we rode to Lewes and hopped on the train to Victoria, biked through Hyde Park to Marylebone station. The Chiltern overland rail service train dropped us off close to our starting Airbnb in Rickmansworth, where we were reunited with our Ground Effect Dogsbody bike bags and other luggage that we had left with hosts Mary and Paul. Including travel around Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines it had been another 467 kms to Rickmansworth.

Day 71, with 1954 kms of cycling and some once-in-a-lifetime Olympic experiences, a mini cab took us to Heathrow to let us decompress into the long journey home.